


Regent

by PanicAtTheEverywhere (DapperMuffin)



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Royalty, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, M/M, Multi, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Prince Roman, Rogelio is best horse, Warnings May Change, medieval-inspired but it's not a specific time period so i can mix and match tech, no beta we die like men, prince logan, thief virgil, twisty plot abound hehe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-25
Updated: 2020-08-12
Packaged: 2021-03-06 02:34:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,285
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25515853
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DapperMuffin/pseuds/PanicAtTheEverywhere
Summary: As prince, Roman has many duties, one of which is ruling his kingdom of Castion while his parents are away. This includes the responsibility of connecting with foreign delegates who come to stay in Castion, but it's made difficult when Prince Logan of Elmsworth shows less than no interest in even interacting with him. That's just the tip of the iceberg, because Roman also has mysterious but attractive thieves who regularly break into his castle as well as pretty strangers who sing him crooning and entrancing love songs to deal with.
Relationships: Anxiety | Virgil Sanders & Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders, Anxiety | Virgil/Creativity | Roman/Logic | Logan/Morality | Patton, Creativity | Roman "Princey" Sanders/Logic | Logan Sanders
Comments: 15
Kudos: 23





	1. arrogance at its finest

**Author's Note:**

> I'm really excited about this one! guys, i'm not gonna lie, it's only been one week since i had the idea for this AU, but since then i've been working on it for at least three hours a day since then. it's very much a passion project, and i'm happy to present to you,
> 
> Regent.

Roman was only fourteen when he first encountered the thief.

He’d been walking in the corridor outside his parents’ room, as he often did, when he heard a noise that made him stop. He listened—there it was again.

He pushed his parents’ door open to see another boy who looked about his age. The boy in question wore a dark cloak with the hood up, and he stopped when he saw Roman, eyes wide. In his arms was some of Roman’s parents’ gold jewelry, and the boy looked down at it before looking back up at Roman.

“You know, I could call for the guards,” Roman said cautiously. “They would be here in less than a minute.”

“I don’t steal for fun,” the boy replied, and Roman was taken by surprise by the amount of snark this common thief had just used when talking to him, the prince. “My family needs the money to eat.”

Roman bit his lip. “Okay, fine.”

“Really?”

“Just this once, I’ll make an exception,” Roman sighed reluctantly. “But you can’t do this again!”

The boy grinned. “Thanks. See ya later,  _ princey.” _ And with that, he leapt out the window with startling ease.

The thief next appeared later that year. This time, he’d stolen some of  _ Roman’s _ most expensive possessions, and Roman was, of course, terribly affronted, as he’d said  _ once, _ but the boy was too quick for him and had left before Roman could even yell “thief.”

The more the thief appeared, the more young Roman resigned himself to this becoming a regular occurrence, as much as he wished it wouldn’t.

Three years after the first encounter, Roman had caught the thief in the act again, and this time, he’d thought to call after him.

“Wait!” Roman said, slightly breathless, and, by some miracle, the boy stopped, looking back at Roman. “What’s your name? I can’t keep calling you ‘thief,’ and everyone in the kingdom knows my name, so it would be odd if you knew my name and I didn’t know yours.”

Roman didn’t expect this to work, and he crossed his fingers as the thief pondered.

“Hm… no, I don’t think I’ll tell you.”

Roman groaned. “What do I call you then?” he yelled in frustration, and the other boy muttered something inaudible. “Sorry, what?”

The thief rolled his eyes. “Virgil. My name is Virgil.” Then he’s gone.

The next time they see each other, it resulted in a chase through the corridors of the castle with Virgil in the lead, and that was the first time Roman said “Virgil” aloud. He’d laughed it, out of breath, as he ran.

Roman is now 21. Virgil—who, according to his calculations, must now be 19—continues to plague his life, and every time Roman finds the man rummaging through his things, it results in him having to replace his crown.  _ Again. _

It’s early winter, and Roman squints up at the gray clouds. There’s no sign of snow any time soon. Snow is, according to Roman, the best part of winter, and every day of winter without snow adds to his slight resentment.

His horse Rogelio clops to a stop, and Roman slides effortlessly off of his horse and onto the sturdy wood of the dock. A very important delegate is arriving today by boat, and Roman has to be there to meet him when he docks, as his parents are gone again. The king and queen of Castion are often gone on presumably political trips to other kingdoms, leaving Roman entirely in charge most of the time.

Ah! There he is.

Roman spots the head of dark hair he’d been looking for with a surge of triumph. He strides forward to meet the man as he steps off the boat.

“Hello, Prince Logan of Elmsworth. How was your journey?”

Instead of perhaps responding with any semblance of happiness to be there or even any emotion at all, Logan simply says, “Greetings,” and leaves it at that. Roman’s enthusiasm for the delegate’s arrival is quashed, and he frowns for a moment before his features smooth over into an expression devoid of emotion.

_ Just be polite, Roman. Be polite, at the very least. _

He forces a polite smile. “Well, would you like to ride back to the castle with me on my horse, Rogelio?”

“Not particularly.” Logan’s expression indicates that he couldn’t care less about Roman’s horse, let alone its name, and Roman takes several careful, even breaths.

“Okay then. We will get a carriage.”

When the carriage arrives, Logan gets in without even a “thank you,” and Roman slumps his shoulders, irritable. He’d paid one of the dock workers to take Rogelio back to the castle, and while he doesn’t really trust some dock worker with his horse, he doesn’t have much of a choice. The  _ polite _ thing to do is ride in the carriage Logan had so  _ nicely _ requested along with Logan himself, so ride in the carriage he does.

As soon as they roll up to the castle, Roman hops out. He opens the carriage door for Logan, who, again, doesn’t even thank him as he steps out. Really, what is Roman doing this for again? The peace and the alliance between Castion and Elmsworth? Is it really worth it?

Yes, it is, he reminds himself with a sigh.

Roman had made the conscious choice to  _ personally _ escort the prince of Elmsworth to and around the castle, but by now he’s starting to regret this decision. Logan frowns at the room he’d had prepared for him, and when asked if something’s wrong with his accommodations, Logan says the walls are too bright.

Who says that? That’s not even a normal complaint! What does that mean, “the walls are too bright”? That’s not something Roman can have changed very quickly, but he assures Logan through his teeth that he’ll see what he can do about it.

Logan refuses Roman’s offer to have tea with him, even though they both know well that it’s a custom when people of their two kingdoms meet to have tea together. During dinner, Logan complains about the consistency of the meat, and Roman wasn’t entirely sure if he meant that it was  _ too _ chewy or not chewy  _ enough. _ He still isn’t sure.

Suffice it to say, when Roman lowers his head onto his pillow at the end of the day, he decides he doesn’t like this Logan one bit. He may be hot, but that doesn’t make up for a lack of personality. Roman’s slept with enough people of both genders to know that.

Still, as he stares at the wall and tries to sleep, why can’t he take his mind off of the disagreeable prince?


	2. maybe he's not so bad

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> um i didnt mean for Roman to get this gay this fast but uh i srsly cant control him or Remus, they're literally the embodiment of Creativity no wonder they've got a mind of their own

A week has passed. It started snowing a day ago, much to Roman's delight, but with all the snow, he's stuck inside his castle with Logan.

This means more interaction, more bumping into one another in corridors and halls. For the most part, this isn't literal, but at least once, Roman actually does bump into Logan.

He mutters an apology, and they both keep walking, and he's turned the corner by the time he realizes—hadn't Logan also apologized back there? Roman puzzles over this, but he doesn't dare bring it up to Logan.

The next day, Roman personally brings Logan a new teapot after Logan had broken the one he'd been provided (is he secretly clumsy?).

As Roman hands Logan the teapot, Logan says something that sounds awfully like, "Thanks," but that can't be right, because when has he ever been polite?

"Sorry, what?" Roman frowns.

Logan sighs. "I said 'thank you.'" He stares at Roman, one eyebrow raised. "I'll admit it, when I first got here, I was… well…"

"An asshole?" Roman mutters, but Logan hears, and he winces.

"Er. Yes." Logan coughs into the back of his hand, his cheeks flushed as he momentarily avoids looking at Roman. "I was an asshole. I apologize." He sighs. "I was tired that first day. I didn't want to come here, I was fine at home, but my parents _insisted_ , and you can't very well argue with the king and queen."

Okay, maybe Roman's starting to see things from Logan's point of view. That doesn't mean he'd been any less of an asshole.

"Not that I'm trying to justify my behavior," Logan adds hastily. "It was poor form. A political delegate is supposed to be, well, _polite_ , and I was anything but."

"I accept your apology." Roman may be a hint snooty as he says this, but he thinks perhaps it's justified this once.

"Well. That's good, then." Logan coughs again, and Roman chooses to let himself out.

“Guess he _does_ possess human emotions,” remarks Roman to the audience of the drapes on his bed and the cold tea in its pot on the table. Neither of them replies, and Roman looks around, suddenly disoriented in his own space. He has to sit down or risk falling.

Roman doesn’t move for a while, caught, stuck, in the spiderweb of his thoughts. He can’t fathom why his mind returns, again and again, to Logan, vulnerable and awkward and blushing as he apologizes.

Sure, Logan may be _hot,_ but that doesn’t mean Roman’s into him. Roman doesn’t have a crush or anything, that would be stupid, it’s only been a _week,_ it must be some kind of fleeting infatuation, it’ll be gone before long.

For now, he’ll simply have to ride it out, he supposes.

The next day, a Tuesday. Logan catches Roman staring during meals more than once, which Roman is ashamed to admit.

Logan pushes in his chair once he’s finished eating, and Roman bustles over.

“Um, hello, yes.” Roman’s tongue-tied, and Logan looks at his red face until Roman can put his words back together. “Uh, I’m having tea later. You’re also having tea later.”

“What?”

He doesn’t blame Logan for being confused. Honestly, Roman himself is confused. The words are there, in his mind, only they fall apart as soon as he opens his mouth.

“What I _meant_ was,” he clears his throat, “would you like to have tea with me?”

Logan blinks. His eyes flick away from Roman as he thinks, and then back as he carefully formulates an answer.

That’s what sets them apart, he supposes. Logan is calculating, sometimes cold, and nothing about him is spontaneous. Roman is the opposite, “spontaneous” is basically his brand. When he’s not overthinking, that is.

Which… he does a lot these days.

But not because of Logan or anything.

Okay, not _solely_ because of Logan.

“Yes,” Logan says, and Roman blinks, clearing the thoughts from his eyes. “I think I will join you for tea.”

“Oh! Well, good!” Roman clears his throat. “I’ll see you at 4, then!”

When the clock on Roman’s wall strikes 4 o’clock, there’s a knock. Logan is incredibly punctual, he muses idly, stretching as he gets up to get the door.

“Hello,” he says as he opens the door. Logan’s there, arms neatly folded behind his back. His blue vest is impeccably unwrinkled.

“Yes. Hello.” They look at each other for a moment, and then Roman realizes he’s blocking the doorway and steps out of the way. As soon as Logan is in his room, Roman closes the door behind him.

Logan stops, glancing around the room as he takes in the decor. He looks to Roman for a cue, and Roman nods, indicating he can sit. He kneels on one of the pillows next to the low table, and Roman joins him shortly.

They pour the tea in silence, each serving themselves. Logan hardly moves as he gently sips from his teacup—of _course_ he sticks his pinky out—and Roman sneaks peeks at him as he slowly drinks his own tea.

Logan doesn’t fidget, which strikes Roman as odd. Who doesn’t fidget? Is he genuinely that calm all the time? Roman’s always been hyper and bouncy, and fidgeting has long saved his sanity, especially in boring meetings he has to take since his parents are always away. It seems so odd to Roman that this foreign prince is so different from himself.

Then again, he doesn’t really know much about Logan. Neither of them has opened up to the other, so he supposes it goes both ways.

They don’t speak the entire time. Logan finishes his tea at 4:30, politely refusing Roman’s offer of biscuits or a second serving, instead standing to go.

Logan stops at the door, one hand on the doorframe, and while he doesn’t turn to look at Roman, his voice is easily heard. “Thank you, Roman.”

“You’re—you’re welcome,” Roman replies numbly, and then Logan is gone. That’s the first time Logan has ever said his name, isn’t it?


	3. a game of cards

Logan isn’t as bad as Roman thought.

Not only is he not an asshole, but he agrees to play a game with Roman after teatime.

“What?” Roman stares dumbfounded at Logan, who raises an eyebrow at him in turn. “You’ve never played Go Fish?!”

“I wasn’t aware it was that big of a deal,” remarks Logan dryly. “Is it much of a thing here in Castion?”

“I guess, I mean, I’ve played it since I was a kid. When I was little, my parents and I would play it on weekends.” Roman’s eyes almost glow as he remembers, but the light dulls as he comes back down to earth. Logan tilts his head as he observes Roman, but Roman takes no notice of Logan’s attention on him. “I haven’t played it in a while.”

Logan clears his throat. “Alright. How do you play?” He folds his hands in lap, looking down at the table.

Roman has to admit he’s surprised that Logan’s expressing interest, but pleasantly so, and he leaps right into a poorly executed explanation in his excitement and haste.

Logan notes with satisfaction that the light returns to Roman’s eyes as Roman explains, wildly waving his hands too fast for Logan to comfortably follow.

Halfway through the game, Logan asks if Roman has a goldfish, and Roman replies, “Go fish,” but almost instantly fumbles his cards, dropping what is clearly a goldfish card on the table. He looks up at Logan like a deer in the headlights, and Logan stares back for a moment before lunging across the table for the card. Roman gets to it first, and Logan tries to wrestle it from him, but when Roman stands up, Logan concedes victory to him, though it may have been through dishonest means. After all, Roman is very tall, taller than Logan, and Logan notes that piece of information. He should file it in his mind later.

Next to Roman’s smirk, he supposes. That makes the most organizational sense.

Logan smooths out the wrinkles in his newly-washed vest with only the mildest of indignation.

“Hey?” Roman’s in Logan’s face without any warning and Logan puts one hand over his heart as it speeds up.

“You startled me,” he huffs, rolling up the cuffs of his sleeves.

“Sorry,” shrugs Roman. “But, hey, I don’t…  _ usually _ cheat at card games. Just so you know. I kind of wanted to win to, I dunno… Impress you?” The tips of his ears are pink, and he seems unsure.

“Oh.” No one’s ever tried to impress Logan before. What is he supposed to say? Is there a proper etiquette for this situation?

There’s an awkward silence for all of a minute, and then Roman springs back to life. He grabs the box of cards on the table, shaking it into his hand until he’s located the card he was looking for. “A-ha.” He shoves the rest of the cards back into the box and appraises the goldfish card. After a moment, his eyes shift to Logan. “I want you to have it.”

“But… don’t you need the full deck to play?” That is, after all, how many card games work, and one this simplistic surely requires every card to function properly.

“Well… yeah, but I don’t play it much anymore anyway, like I said, and… I guess I thought you’d be able to find a use for it.” Roman’s holding out the card now, and Logan cautiously takes it. His fingers brush Roman’s hand—it’s  _ warm. _ Wait. Logan isn’t typically this clingy. Perhaps he’s just cold. He should add more blankets to the bed tonight.

“Thank you,” he says quietly, observing the goldfish card in his hand and noting the  small, warm feeling it causes in him. ~~Fascinating.~~

After this, there isn’t much more to be said. Logan and Roman share a few short, clipped conversations, and then Logan retires to his room for the afternoon.

It’s almost dark already. It’s only six pm.

The days are getting shorter.

Logan often finds himself sitting by various windows in the castle, bundled up in blankets as he stares out through the frosted panes. While Castion isn’t ugly, far from it, it’s a far cry from what Logan’s used to. While Roman grew up in a castle surrounded by a village full of cobblestone streets and thin, dark alleys, Logan grew up in a mansion surrounded by trees. The people of Elmsworth base their lifestyle in the forest. There are plenty of small cottages among the trees, and not a chimney to be seen. Instead, there are certain clearings intended for log fires.

He misses it.

The snow always looks lovely in Elmsworth this time of year.

Someone clears his throat near Logan, and he turns, half expecting to see the other prince, but instead, his gray-blue eyes are met with a pair of teal ones.

“Aren’t you Roman’s… servant?” Logan inquires, feeling out of place and hoping he doesn’t say something politically incorrect or offensive.

The red-haired man smiles, winking one of his teal eyes behind his glasses. “Yes. My name is Emile. Hot chocolate?” He lifts a steaming teacup that Logan hadn’t previously noticed.

Logan thinks for a moment before reaching out to take it from him. “Thank you.” He cautiously sips—it’s not too hot—and then he takes another.

“Homesick?” Emile asks, and Logan notices that he has an accent when he talks.

“I suppose.” Logan shifts the teacup to his other hand. “I can’t help but notice your accent. Are you from Taurel?”

Emile beams. “Yes, I am. Most people can’t tell where I’m from. Do you have many Taurelians in Elmsworth?”

“I’ve met my fair share, although there aren’t that many anymore. Do you miss it in Taurel?”

“Sometimes.” Emile joins Logan at the window. “Mostly in the spring. That’s when the flowers would start to bloom. There’d be flowers in every color you could think of, and even the colors you couldn’t put a name to.” He laughs. “There aren’t many flowers here.   
  
“Enough about me. What do you miss about your home?  _ Flow-are _ you?”

Logan watches a carriage trundle by below as he formulates an answer. He can feel Emile’s eyes on him, but he doesn’t look. Despite his indignation, he ignores the pun, and it takes most of his willpower. “I miss the trees. Much like you, I grew up in a place with plenty of flora, and now I find myself in a place with none. I’ll admit, it’s a touch disorienting, the lack of green.”

There’s a brief pause. Emile makes a noise, and Logan can see Emile stretching in the reflection of the glass. “I should be on my way. It was nice talking to you. Maybe we can be friends for the rest of your stay.”

“That would be pleasant.”

Emile leaves, and Logan’s alone at the window once more, the sole figure watching over the city.

**Author's Note:**

> I've drawn two pieces of art for this AU so far, and I posted them both on my artblr @muffin-arts (linked below)  
> https://muffin-arts.tumblr.com/post/624277756957671424/prince-logan-need-i-say-more  
> https://muffin-arts.tumblr.com/post/624652116615659520/it-occurs-to-me-that-i-never-posted-this-also
> 
> come yell at me @yourelost-itsokay on Tumblr ^^


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